


Ever So Slightly

by r0ryy



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gods, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Past Lives, Prompt Fic, Reincarnation, this is very experimental so we'll see how it goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 09:52:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10919397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0ryy/pseuds/r0ryy
Summary: A series of Fire Emblem drabbles based on one sentence prompts.





	Ever So Slightly

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure??? what I want to do????? with this yet?? I had the idea in my head to write a few short fe drabbles based around one word and/or one sentence prompts and just kind of throw them all here, but I ended up creating a much longer scenario for this first one than I intended and I kind of like it. So this will be sort of a feedback-based experiment for me.
> 
> As it stands, I think I'll stick with concept of prompted drabbles, but if you enjoy this, please let me know what you want to see next! If you want to suggest a prompt or pairing or situation or whatever, as long as it's related to Fates, Awakening, or the Tellius games, go for it! It doesn't have to be in this universe/scenario that I set up here and I'll write juuust about anything so let me know! Also, my tumblr is r0ryy.tumblr.com if you prefer to converse there.

_She couldn't believe it. Was it really him?_

Kamui knew the stories, or legends, really, since there was no proof. Souls that were strong enough would come back sometimes. It was a belief found mostly in romance novels or old folktales, and despite the likelihood that it was indeed false, a small part of her had hoped, since the day he'd died, that maybe it wasn't. Even so, Kamui knew that the notion was foolish, even dangerous, to hold on to.

She was, as near as she could figure, a god now. The power that she held verged on limitless, and she’d seen firsthand how power like that could corrupt if used the wrong way. So she’d never gone hunting for his soul, never tried to bring him back, even though a big part of her was pretty sure that she could pull it off if she tried. But instead, Kamui focused her efforts on helping those in need, giving strength to people who were fighting for something important, ensuring that the balance of power in the world remained stable and that the world itself remained safe. All the benevolent god stuff that she supposed she’d been tasked with now. Helping people, keeping balance, doing good. A few small groups had even started worshiping her for it.

And perhaps the greatest gift to come from this accidental godhood was that she’d been able to see her great-grandkids grow up. She watched over them for years, even met them, granted it was under a disguise, but still. Kamui told herself it was all enough, more than enough.

And yet…

When she’d seen him walk into the little tavern, seen those dark, familiar eyes, Kamui’s heart surged with a joy that she hadn’t felt in nearly a century.  

She takes a quick gulp of her drink, trying to reason with herself. There was no way; it _couldn’t_ be him. It was just a trick of the light, or her own exhausted eyes, or some long-lost genetic resemblance, or something. The guy barely even _looks_ like him. His hair is light blue and short and sort of messy; windswept and fluffy-looking. A second glance reveals the reason why. He’s wearing the standard Sky Knight uniform, as are many of the people he’d just strolled into the tavern with. He’s one of the smaller ones in his group, but he looks strong and the uniform fits him _very_ well and Kamui internally punches herself for thinking that.

The little crowd, she counts five altogether, takes a seat at one of the round tables near the windows and Kamui spots a flash of bright purple hair from one of its members. For the second time in just a few minutes, she nearly chokes on her drink.

It’s Lady Sybil, her great-granddaughter and the captain of Hoshido’s Sky Knights.

Kamui is suddenly very grateful that the back corner of the tavern she’s lurking in is so dimly lit, and that she hadn’t bothered to pull her hood down when she came in. The odds of Sybil recognizing her are slim, but the girl has a good memory and she doesn’t feel like putting it to the test today. Not now. Not while she’s currently accompanied by someone who reminds Kamui very much of…of a name that she hadn’t even let herself _think_ in years.

She flags down one of the servers and orders another drink. When it comes, Kamui knocks back half of it before trying to reason with herself, again. She runs through the main points of her argument furiously before sticking on the resemblance one. Even if it was…him, which it _wasn’t_ , there was no guarantee that they would look even vaguely similar. And they _don’t_ , this guy is short and his hair is blue and his mouth is shaped different and his face is all wrong but…

But the eyes.

There was no mistaking those eyes. Kamui could never forget them, would never forget the way they looked when she would pull him in close and whisper gentle reassurances and quiet promises. She remembered the way they remained bright and intelligent and warm, even as they were slowly swallowed up by laugh lines and his eyelashes turned grey. Kamui remembered altering her own appearance, an illusion that should have drained her energy but came far too easily, so that she could at least _look_ like she was growing old with him, even though her body had stopped aging the moment that Anankos died.

The memories are flooding back now and Kamui tries to drown them in another long pull from her tankard, but it doesn’t work.  

He’d known what was happening; Shiro and Kana did, too. They knew that Anankos’ power needed a vessel, and had been slowly siphoning into the only one that could hold it. They saw how strong her magic, her body, her mind became. They knew that she wasn’t aging, but Kamui insisted on maintaining the illusion. It saved them the effort of having to explain to Hoshido why their queen looked like she was perpetually twenty-two years old, when she should have been closer to fifty. Word got around to everyone who’d needed to know, and that was it.

If he’d asked she would have dropped it, but he never did, and so Kamui had maintained the illusion until the day that he died.

The sharp sting behind her eyes reminds herthat she had been very deliberately _not_ thinking about that day for a very long time. But it comes back all in a rush now. She'd had to be strong for everyone else, reassuring them all that there wasn’t any reason to be sad. He had lived a long, full, happy life and they should all celebrate that until the day this life was over and they would all be reunited. But Kamui already knew that day wasn’t coming for her.

She’d admitted it to him that morning as dawn was just beginning to seep in through their window. He had been weak and bedridden with sickness for long enough that everyone understood what was coming. She knew how much it ate at him, being stuck like that, so she’d spent every day with him, barely leaving his side until the morning came when he looked at her with a sad, tired smile and tried to say goodbye.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be together again soon.”

She had started crying then, for the first time since their families had gathered together to pay their respects and say goodbye, all the bottled-up emotion spilling over against the only person who she’d ever let see her like that.

“But we won’t. I’m not aging and I-” she swallowed. “I’m becoming what he…what my father was.”

“A god,” he filled in, gently.

“Yeah. That.” She’d laughed then, wet and painful. “You know most people would be really psyched about living forever. Not to mention the limitless power and stuff but, shit I…” She looked up at him. “I don’t even want it.”

He’d smiled. “And that’s why you’re the only one who deserves it.” Kamui sighed and hated that he was right.

They talked for a while after that. Parts have faded to soft, blurry hues in her memory and parts are still sharp as glass. But, above all else, Kamui remembers with painful clarity when he’d asked to see her, just as she was, without her magic in the way. Then, for the first time in decades, Kamui let the illusion fall away. He’d grinned up at her then, eyes hazy, already half-gone and murmured,

“Well if you insist on sticking around like this, I suppose I’ll just have to come back and find you.”

With a start, Kamui realizes that she’d been staring at the Sky Knight, and that he was staring back at her now with those same dark eyes that she remembers so well. But she looks away before she can read his expression, face burning as she drains the rest of her drink and motions for another one. Kamui stubbornly refuses to look up again, even as she feels his eyes boring into her. She silently fiddles with the ragged hem of her cloak, warring with herself.

His words had haunted her for so long now, had given her a glimmer of hope that, for years, was the only thing driving her on. But years had turned to decades, had turned to nearly a century and, despite her best efforts, she’d never found any evidence that he might have somehow come back.

But _now_ …

For the first time in so long she feels that hope stirring up again. But it stirs like a knife twisting in her gut because it comes paired with the firsthand knowledge of how much it’s going to hurt if she’s wrong. And what’s worse is that even if she’s right, there’s no way he would remember her. At least, she’s pretty sure reincarnation isn’t supposed to work that way–

“Excuse me?” a soft, nervous voice says from surprisingly close by. Kamui looks up and jerks back in shock when she sees the Sky Knight standing right in front of her. “Do I…know you from somewhere?” His voice is excited but unsure, like that isn’t the question he actually wanted to ask.

It is a long moment before Kamui replies, “I don’t know.” She glances away, down at her hands which are gripping the tankard so hard that she’s starting to see hairline cracks splinter across its surface.  

“My name is Kioku,” he says, soft but expectant. “W-what’s yours?”

“Kioku,” she repeats slowly, like she’s tasting the name. There are a thousand thoughts flying around in her head, slamming against each other, making her ears ring. Kamui thinks he says something but whatever it is she can’t hear it, can’t process it, can’t even look up at him and suddenly she just really, really _doesn’t_ want to be here.

“I – I have to leave.” Before he can say anything else, she stands and abruptly whisks her way out of the tavern, quickly leaving behind the young knight and the angry shouts of the barkeep. Kamui makes a quick mental note to bring some suitable compensation for skipping out on her tab the next time she ends up here.

Once she gets outside, the night air is damp and cool on her face. Kamui takes a few deep gulps of it to try and clear her head but doesn’t slow her pace, doesn’t take a moment to lower her hood even though it’s not raining anymore, doesn’t bother to figure out where she’s going as long it’s _away from here_. But, she only makes it a few yards before she hears a voice call out.

“Kamui!”

She stops.

“It’s you, isn’t it? That’s your name, you’re Kamui.”

She can't move. She feels paralyzed, frozen. 

“…Yeah,” she manages, slowly looking back over her shoulder at him. She sees his face and it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds when he smiles, relieved and elated and so, _so_ familiar.

“I knew it! I’ve been looking for you for so long! I –” He had started to walk towards her but stopped, face suddenly falling and Kamui thinks that she’d rip apart the world if it meant seeing him smile again.

“Do…do you remember me?” he says, suddenly hurt and unsure. She wants to go to him, wants to throw her arms around him, but her body feels numb, like it’s in shock and all Kamui manages to do is turn all the way to face him.

“Tell me who you are,” she chokes.

“W-who I am or who I was?”

“Are they different?”

“A little, I suppose.” Kamui sees him fidgeting. “I wasn’t raised as a prince this time. I worked as a servant in Castle Shirasagi with my family until I joined the Sky Knights. And then I started traveling with them and searching for you because I remembered!” He’s talking faster now. “Ever since I was little, just bits and pieces at first, but it was always you. I remembered you and I remembered our lives together. When we were children and we used to sneak out of the palace together before you were taken away. I remember when you came back and then there was the war, that,” he laughs, “impossible war. But we won. And then we went home and I remember being so _afraid_ about becoming king and ruling and everything that came with it, but you were always there for me.” Kamui can see his eyes shining. “We changed the world together, and then we got married and we had kids, we had Shiro and then Kana and we were _so_ _happy_ and you called me–”

“Ryoma!”

Kamui has him locked tight in her arms before either of them can say anything else. Ryoma meets her embrace just as enthusiastically, as she picks him up effortlessly and whirls him around in a messy, stumbling circle and they’re both half-sobbing, half-laughing in relief.  And then she’s kissing him, his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks and nose and ears and anything else that she can reach and they’re both crying, even as their chests heave with breathless, ecstatic laughter.

Eventually they settle down, still wrapped up in each other’s arms, and Kamui finds herself with her head buried in Ryoma’s shoulder as one hand cards softly through her hair exactly the way that he knew she liked.  Kamui thinks she could stay like this forever and it still wouldn’t be long enough.

Eventually she raises her head just enough to murmur, “So, what am I supposed to call you now?” 

He laughs, still a little choked. “Anything you like.” She is quiet for a moment, thinking.

“You said your name was Kioku now, yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

Kamui hums approvingly, hugging him just a little bit tighter.

“I like that, I think I’ll call you Kioku.” She smiles and the name tastes sweet on her tongue.

“I would love that.”


End file.
